“Not even gonna touch the other part of that?”
“You want to consider yourself a man with honor.” With a roll of her eyes, she held out her hands. He noticed they weren’t entirely steady. “I can’t really complain since you basically bought my way out of work early. Now I can have a good night’s sleep before drills tomorrow morning.”
“You’re not coming to the game?” Man, that sounded needy. “I mean, just curious so I can arrange a ride or something.”
Nice save, asshat.
She smiled a little, as if she knew instinctively he was losing his cool over her. As if she was enjoying it.
“I plan on coming, yes. So if you could arrange a ride, that would be lovely.” She smiled sweetly now, as if they hadn’t just been going toe to toe in a knockdown, drag-out argument. “I’m meeting my interim tennis coach early in the morning. Plenty of time to get back here and shower before going to the game.”
“Okay.” He scrubbed over his head, hoping to clear the cobwebs the desire he had for her strung all over his brain. “Okay.”
“And when you start repeating yourself, that’s my cue to leave.” She waved a hand and headed for his door. But as she reached for the doorknob, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. He froze in place, unable to move. “Just so you know, Bertha taught me a lot. If you only knew what you were missing.” With a wink, she disappeared out his door. He heard her own unlock and open before his was fully shut behind her.
Son of a bitch, she drove him crazy.
“Bobcat Buys Beauty’s Company.” Trey grinned as he wandered over to Michael’s section of the locker room. “Nice headline, bro.”
“Bite me,” Michael said calmly. He’d already taken a ribbing that morning from his two older brothers—both of whom knew well enough it wouldn’t hurt him in the game to be poked at a bit—and his father, who simply found the entire thing hilarious. Their calls from his hometown in Oregon had already dulled the edge of anger over the whole thing.
Brothers were good for that.
And to think he’d once wanted to be just like them…
“Hey, I get it.” Matt Peterson, defensive lineman and Grade A showboat, walked by and kicked a chair out to sit on. “She got herself into a mess, and you bailed her out. No big. It was a gentlemanly thing to do.”
“Thanks.” Finally, someone who got it without him having to explain himself.
“You didn’t have any, how might they say it…” Matt paused for a moment, shaking his head and sending his dreads bouncing around his shoulders. “Nefarious. That’s a good one. You didn’t have any nefarious plans for the tennis chick.”
“She’s not a chick, but no. No moustache twirling for me, thanks.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I found her and made some advances.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed into slits, and he turned his head very slowly to the side, taking in Matt’s easy pose. “What?”
Matt grinned, showing off his pearly white smile in his dark face. “She’s hot, regardless of whether you’re stuck with her playing Big Brother, Little Sister or whatever. She’s an adult. I figured you wouldn’t care if I asked her out. No nefarious plans, I swear.” As proof, Matt held up his hands, palms out, shit-eating smile on his face.
Trey snickered, then kept walking toward his own seat.
“Not going to help me at all?” Michael called out.
“Dig your own grave,” was his friend’s reply.
Assholes. He was surrounded by them.
“I’m going to say this once because you’re a good guy, Matt. I know you’ll respect me when I tell you this.”
Matt leaned closer, eyebrows raising in curiosity.
Michael scooted in until their heads were nearly touching and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “If you ask her out, I will rip your heart out through your throat, stuff it up your ass, and kick your lifeless carcass into next week.”
Matt cracked up, standing and slapping a hand on his shoulder. “Roger that, oh wise mentor man. Lambert’s got it baaaaaad,” he sang softly, shuffling away in his shower shoes toward his own locker.
Assholes. Assholes everywhere.
Chapter 12
Kat walked into the tennis center, prepared for anything. And yeah, okay, nervous as everloving hell. Michael had loaned her his SUV, which had shocked the hell out of her when she realized it in the morning. Driving a car that didn’t belong to her had been intimidating.
But more than that, she was worried about what was to come. It had been a long time since she’d gone coach shopping. Even temporarily, she was hoping this person could give her an edge on the court beyond what she’d already learned at this point. Peter had sounded… skeptical when he’d called with the information. But she also got the impression that beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she should take what she got.